


Cured with a Kiss

by Ayame_no_kimi



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, M/M, everybody being silly, fourth year at watford, love potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayame_no_kimi/pseuds/Ayame_no_kimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a simple enough love potion. Completely harmless. Its effects will dissipate under the first shared kiss. <br/>... <br/>It’s a genius plan, really. I don’t see what could possibly go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cured with a Kiss

**Penny**

Four years at Watford. Four years as Simon Snow’s best friend. The Chosen One. The One Who Can’t Walk Two Steps Without Tripping Over His Shoelaces. He-Who-Begins-To-Stutter-Every-Time-Agatha-Walks-In. The Boy Whose Spells Tend To Backfire. Our golden haired, blue eyed saviour who needs constant saving from the embarrassment of having to talk to the prettiest girl in school.

I can’t watch it anymore.

You take one look at them and everything is so very clear. Agatha and Simon. The tall, beautiful girl with the starlight in her hair. The awkward, broad-shouldered boy with the daytime sky in his eyes. Each time they’re in a room together, each time their eyes accidentally meet, each time his gaze lingers on her a bit longer than he’d like to admit, it becomes oh so very clear.

There is absolutely no chemistry between them. None. Nada. Nihil. Less than zero. It’s minus chemistry.

Admittedly, no chemistry is probably better than the highly destructive mixture of explosives he tends to have with his roommate. Who may or may not be a vampire. (Seriously, though. A vampire at Watford? Chances are, Simon’s just looking for ways to make Baz look bad.)

But still, how can he not notice? It’s as though Agatha’s presence casts its very own spell over him. A spell that causes him to believe he is in love. A thrall, if you will. Which she doesn’t of course (cast a spell, that is).

Still, it’s painful to watch.

Which is why I have decided to do it for her.

It’s a simple enough love potion. Completely harmless. Its effects will dissipate under the first shared kiss. All it does is temporarily put two (or more) people under a … let’s call it infatuation. Makes sure their hearts flutter each time they catch a glimpse of each other. Fills their heads with thoughts about one another. Draws them towards one another. Then, one little kiss, and the effects will be reversed. The spell will be broken. And hopefully, the two lovebirds will realize that in real life, there is absolutely no chemistry between them whatsoever.

It’s a genius plan, really. I don’t see what could possibly go wrong.

 

“Simon, drink your tea.” I nudge the mug closer to him. It’s a good thing he is the most oblivious person in the world. That way I had no problem slipping a few drops of the potion into his tea. He is still munching away on his breakfast sour cherry scones.

I crane my neck, just as Simon lifts his mug and gulps down the tea without hesitation. “I have brought Agatha some coffee, too. Why does she have to be late today?”

“Relax, she’s gonna come,” Simon says, his mouth full of scone. “Baz is late, too. He still acted like he was sleeping when I left. Can you believe that? He spent half the night away. I’m pretty sure he was getting together with his minions again. He’s been quiet for too long, already. It’s about time they were hatching some new scheme against me.”

“Sure, Simon,” I sigh. “All Baz and Dev and Niall ever do is come up with new ways to thwart you. After all, that’s what all teenage boys do in their spare time.”

Simon squints at me, but before he can decide how seriously I mean it (only Simon could believe I mean something like that seriously), his face tenses and he growls.

I turn and glance behind me. Baz comes striding towards us from the entrance. He has the usual snarl around his lips. That snarl I never see on him when he is talking to his friends. (Minions.) I have long begun to suspect that he is saving it for Simon. It does drive Simon insane, after all.

“Bunce,” he greets me as he approaches our table.

“What do you want, Baz?” Simon hisses before I can return anything.

He places his mug of tea on the table and hauls his bag next to it.

“I don’t know why I even bother,” he says in his best condescending tone. “But you forgot your Greek homework.” He opens his bag and pulls out several sheets of paper. They are filled with nearly indiscernible scribble that very obviously belongs to Simon.

Cheeks flushed red Simon reaches for the homework and whips it out of Baz’s hand.

“What were you doing at my desk?” he bristles. “You have no business at my side of the room!”

“A simple thank you would have sufficed.” Baz raises his chin. “Honestly, Snow, someone ought to teach you some manners.”

He reaches for the mug and takes a few sips before he stops to look at it, frowning. “This isn’t tea.”

“That’s Agatha’s coffee!” Simon snaps. My stomach drops. How much sweat can a person lose via their palms? A pint a minute? Two pints? Feels more like three.

“Even for coffee it tastes weird,” Baz says, grimacing. He puts the mug back on the table and grabs his bag. Before he walks away he shoots me a glance. “Put a sweater on, Bunce. You’re shivering.”

“Look at him!” Simon exclaims as Baz walks away. “Bloody git, who does he think he is? Waltzes over here like he’s the Queen, bringing me my homework, my…,” he falters for a moment. “My homework…,” his voice becomes softer. “You know, that’s actually quite nice. Do you think he cares for me? Have you seen the way his hair falls back on his shoulders? And the way he smiles… is it just me or did that smile brighten the entire room? Maybe it was a magickal smile…”

Okay. There are several things to do here.

1) Stop thinking this is hilarious.

2) Start feeling guilty.

3) Admit that making Simon inadvertently drink love potion might not have been the best of ideas.

4) Finish breakfast.

5) Maybe help Simon fall out of love with his sworn enemy. If I can stop laughing in time.

 

Over the course of the next few hours it becomes quite clear that at least for Simon, the potion takes effect pretty well. I have **Into thin air** -ed the rest of Agatha’s coffee before she could drink any of that. The situation’s complicated enough as it is. When she finally decides to show up for breakfast Simon has already become completely infatuated with Baz. Won’t stop talking about him. Admittedly, that is nothing new. Simon never stops talking about Baz. Which is probably the reason why it takes Agatha a while to catch on to the stream of fond expressions that comes tumbling out of Simon’s mouth. At Latin she starts frowning. At Political Science she shoots me suspicious glances (I can’t stop snickering).

At lunch I decide to come clean.

“Simon,” I say and interrupt his incessant rambling about how the next lesson will be Greek and he will be able to see Baz again and this time properly thank him for bringing his homework. “There is something you should probably know.”

 

**Baz**

Snow behaves weird. He is always easy to fluster and he is always at a loss of words the minute “I” passes his lips. Sometimes he manages a “you”. But today it’s even worse than that.

He keeps staring at me. He is always staring at me, though usually it’s accompanied by a lot of scowling and glaring. Today it’s… not. Today he is just staring. If I had to choose I’d say he looks... dazed. As though Morgana herself flashed him her tits. Has he finally got to first base with Wellbelove? I frown.

I defiantly lift my eyes towards his during Greek. Try to get a scowl out of him. Instead he does the most unusual, unexpected thing. He looks at me and he smiles. Lifts the corners of his mouth the tiniest bit. Wrinkles his nose with the hundreds of freckles.

I look away immediately. Bow deep over my open textbook to hide my burning cheeks.

Is this his plan, then? His brilliant final plot to undo me? Bring about my downfall by doing this thing with his mouth, this incredible, devastating thing where his eyes go soft and his lips…

The Minotaur goes droning on about conjugations. I don’t catch a single word. I don’t look at Snow again, either. Lest I want my heart to jump out of my throat I figure it’s safer to keep my eyes fixed on my textbook. I can still feel it, though. I can feel Snow’s magic seeping out of him over the entire room. It smells like smoke and sunshine. Maybe he is still smiling.

 

When I return to our room in the evening it’s empty. I sit down at my desk to start my homework, but my focus eludes me. Even more often than usual I catch my gaze drifting to the door. Just like every evening I keep equally wishing for Snow to stay away as long as possible and to come back immediately. Having him in the room is excruciating. It never does me any good. He is usually angry at me and I am the one who gets to suffer through the uncontrolled outbreaks of his magic. That’s definitely something I can do without. Besides, he is loud, sloppy and unnervingly clumsy. And if he doesn’t come back soon I might just go bonkers.

The door opens. When I turn towards it, Snow is standing in the entrance.

“In or out, Snow?” I ask when he doesn’t move. I arch my eyebrows as high as I can. I know it irritates the hell out of him. “Either way, close the door, will you?”

“Crowley,” Snow says. He takes a step into the room. The door falls shut behind him. “Why are you so… so…”

“Sophisticated?” I try to help. “So much better than you at everything? Brilliant?”

“ _Pretty_?” he finishes. His eyes, wide open, blink at me.

That does it. I put my pen down and fold my hands to make sure he can’t see them trembling. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. The universe doesn’t just grant queer teenage vampire boys a break and has your arch nemesis/long term crush call you pretty simply because they like your physique. He is probably under a spell. Curious that Bunce hasn’t found out and cured him yet.

“Care to elaborate?” I ask.

Snow sighs and shuffles towards his bed. He unceremoniously drops his bag onto the floor, then flops down onto the bed. He is frowning, but it’s not his usual scowl. Finally he looks up. He has his bottom lip drawn between his teeth and chews on it.

“Penny did a thing,” he says.

Well, that explains why Bunce hasn’t thrown a fit over her Chosen One yet. “A thing,” I repeat. “I am afraid I will need a bit more information than that, Snow. There is quite a number of things I would expect Bunce to do at any given time of the day. Breathing. Eating. Walking. Talking.”

Normally this would have already worked him into a bluster. His cheeks should be flaming hot by now. They are, but not in the usual way. He just keeps blinking at me. Why doesn’t he get angry?

Snow sighs. “Don’t you feel any different?”

“Why should I feel any different?”

“Well, because you drank it, too.”

Something dawns on me. Something terrible. Or possibly hilarious. “Drank what?”

“The potion.”

Talking to Snow is a bit like trying to pry old, dried up chewing gum from a desk. It’s frustrating and all you get are tiny, unsatisfying bits and pieces. “What potion, Snow?”

“The love potion.”

I burst into laughter. “Bunce has fed you love potion?”

He blushes so deeply, not only his cheeks but also his forehead, his neck and even his arms turn bright red. He refuses to look at me but I can still see him trying to catch glances from the corners of his eyes. “And you,” he says. “It was supposed to be for Agatha but you had to drink her coffee.”

So Bunce has decided to play cupid and slip love potion into Snow’s and Wellbelove’s drinks. Lovely. “I drank the potion,” I confirm.

“Yeah.” He fidgets on the corner of his bed. He is still refusing to look at me. His left hand is tightly grasping his bedframe. His right hand is wound into his golden curls, tousling them.

Hmmm. This hypothesis needs more empirical observation. I stand up and slowly edge closer towards Snow. Normally he would be jumping up about now. He likes to keep his distance from me. Even when he’s following me around everywhere. Today he doesn’t seem to mind so much, though.

“So you’re saying,” I say and don’t even attempt to bite down my smirk, “that you’re completely and utterly in love with me right now?”

“Of course I’m not!” He lifts his head and glares at me for exactly 0.2 seconds. Then his gaze softens. “I just… I… you… you know…”

“I really don’t.” I’d be lying if I said I weren’t enjoying myself immensely. I lean forward a bit until our faces are barely a few inches apart. He doesn’t flinch back. In fact, his eyes drop to my lips. I lick them. Just for the fun of it. His breath hitches.

This is almost too good to be true.

“So,” I say quietly, “what’s there to do about this… dilemma? Surely the potion will lose its effect sooner or later.”

Snow swallows. Slowly. Makes a whole show out of it. He mumbles something. It’s almost as though he wants me to lean even closer. I do. He still refuses to look up, but now I can hear his heartbeat underneath his breathing.

“Come again?”

“…iss me…,” he mumbles.

I arch an eyebrow. He doesn’t see it, but the situation seems to call for it nevertheless.

“Yes, Snow?”

“You have to kiss me.”

Now it’s my turn to swallow. “Do I?”

He lifts his head and shoots me a glance. “If you want to be free from the love spell…”

“Ah,” I drawl. “I have to kiss you to be free. Only _I_ don’t seem to be affected too much by it, do I? Now why would I want to kiss you if not for my sake?”

“Because you like me so much?” he ventures and I snort.

“Fat chance,” I say.

“Come on, Baz, how bad can it be?” _How bad indeed?_

“Sorry,” I say and straighten back up. “Not in the kissing mood today. I guess you’ll have to stay infatuated with me a bit longer.”

“But you should feel it, too,” he begs. “Don’t you want to kiss me? I know I do.”

Now those are words I never thought I’d hear out of Snows mouth. At least not directed at me. I savour them for as long as I can.

“Not as much as you apparently,” I eventually say.

Let’s see how long we can keep this game up.

 

I expected the effect of the potion to diminish somewhat over the course of the next few days, but to my surprise they seem to become stronger instead.

However often I might have dreamed of it, I never actually expected the day to come when Snow would be making heart eyes at me. But there he is, the next day in the morning, during classes, and at night before bedtime. And the following day and the one after that. Staring at me with a dreamy expression. Following my movements every time I lift my wand. Grinning bemusedly when I raise my eyebrows at him. Biting his lip when I cock my head or direct my words at him or so much as sip my tea. It’s quite a spectacle, really.

Sometimes he’ll get downright creepy. I wake up in the morning to catch him staring at me. When I sit on my bed in the evening to study he’ll try and sit next to me. He is almost like a little dog that follows my every step and gets ridiculously excited whenever I grant him my attention.

As entertaining as it is (and as much as I enjoy his newfound fondness of me), after one week I decide that things have been going on long enough. Bunce has tried every day to get hold of me. Clearly the lack of effect the potion takes on me vexes her. She tries to get me to explain to her what went wrong. She tries to explain to me what I have to do to end the spell. Of course she wants me to end it so Snow will be his usual self again.

Let her have her wish.

I might be a bit sorry to see Snow return to our old enmity. But what good does it do keeping him under a love spell, really?

I come out of the shower in the evening, fully dressed in my pyjamas but with my hair still damp. I hear him exhale sharply as he sees me. The books he has been carrying drop to the floor with a clatter.

I roll my eyes. “Oh for Merlin’s sake, Snow,” I say.

And then I grab his shirt and I kiss him.

At first he leans into the kiss. Which is really quite nice. Oh, who am I kidding? It is amazing. Perfect. His mouth his hot and he smells of smoke and tastes of roast beef. Just like I always imagined it. I could get used to this.

But then something changes. I feel him tense, stiffen, and then he pushes me off. Forcefully. I stagger back. He stares at me, wide-eyed.

“What the…?” He pushes his hands through his hair a few times. Touches his lips. A growl escapes his throat. “Did you really wait for a whole week to get me out of that spell?”

“You’re welcome,” I say, lips curled.

He isn’t amused. “Crowley, you’re such an arsehole!” he spits. “What were you doing during that time? Don’t act all innocent! You must have plotted something! Why else would you have me pining after you for a whole week?! Ugh, I feel sick!”

I can’t quite hold back a cackle. “Crowley, Snow, I liked you better when you were crushing on me.”

He gives me a stare, eyes blazing.

I guess I deserve that right hook to the chin.

 

**About four years later**

**Baz**

We meet on the weekend, in London. Winter has turned to spring and soon I will have finished my eighth year at Watford. It’s been two weeks since I’ve last seen Simon. When we meet at King’s Cross and he catches me in his arms and draws me into one of his perfect kisses I swear to myself never to let go of him again.

We go for coffee.

“Crowley, Baz, how much sugar are you going to dump in there?” he asks me.

“It’s too bitter,” I complain. “I never liked coffee. I always stick to tea at Watford.”

“That’s right,” he ponders. Then his face lights up. “Except that one time you drank Agatha’s coffee.”

“I never drank Agatha’s coffee,” I say. We usually avoid the topic of Agatha where we can.

“Yes, you did, don’t you remember? Fourth year? The love potion?”

How could I forget that? I start laughing. “That’s right. You were infatuated with me for a whole week.”

“You weren’t, though.” He shoots me a curious glance. “You never told me how you managed it, you know.”

“Managed what?”

“Escape the effects of the potion. Penny went over it time and again. It drove her half insane. She insisted it should have worked perfectly.”

“It did,” I say. I take a sip of my coffee. At this point it’s more sugar than coffee.

Simon frowns. “No, it didn’t. You didn’t show any signs of infatuation. You were completely unfazed by it.”

“Seriously, Simon, haven’t you worked it out yet?” I ask and roll my eyes. “Do you really think something as mundane as a love potion could ever rival the feelings I had for you every single day since I first met you?”

He stares at me for a few seconds.

And then he leans over and kisses me again. Potion-free.


End file.
